


lowlight

by aubadechild



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Drabble, First Kiss, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Kurapika, One Shot, Other, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 21:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16860766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubadechild/pseuds/aubadechild
Summary: “That’s right,” Kurapika responds, smoothing a lock of blond hair behind their ear. “So I can’t stay out late tonight, I’m sorry. I have to—”But suddenly Leorio decides it doesn’t matter what Kurapika has to do, because he interjects with his own idea.





	lowlight

**Author's Note:**

> posting some askbox fics here in case tumblr goes under. prompt: "leopika + kiss me". from [this list](http://bellamyblakesz.tumblr.com/post/111909165950/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you), sent in by @verclo on tumblr.

There’s a special breed of lowlight the city calls  _darkness._ Kurapika’s never understood why they pretend like that. With this light pollution you can’t gather enough shadows to make a night. It’s nothing like where Kurapika comes from. Night takes itself seriously there. The shadows gather themselves.

So when evening weaves itself through this urban greenspace, the pigeons are still out in droves. Leorio breaks a baguette and crushes it into tiny crumbs.

“You’re not supposed to feed them bread. It’s bad for their digestion,” Kurapika says, settling in beside him on the park bench.

Leorio likes it here. Among the skyscrapers and car horns. The noise.  _The pigeons._ He’s never said “ _I like it here”,_  but Kurapika can tell; he’s got a smile on his face the size of Yorknew itself.

“Hey!” Leorio shouts at the birds. They hop like stop motion puppets, tilting their heads at him and cooing indignantly. “That’s right, you heard me! Shoo! It’s bad for your digestion!” 

The flock retreat in a flurry of stone-colored wings, and now Kurapika almost mourns the birds’ absence, because now Leorio turns his full attention on Kurapika themself. Which has always been a bit more than they can really handle, despite how often they assure themself otherwise.

“It’s really your last night here, huh?” Leorio says quietly. The bread bag is folded neatly shut; his hands are folded neatly in his lap.

He’s right. In the morning Kurapika leaves once again, returns to life, duty, and all the reasons they could never stay (those reasons  _do_  in fact outweigh how much they  _want_  to, but only just). It’s less clinical observation on Leorio’s part than the casual opening of a door, a convenient transition into  _feelings_ or whatever parting words he wishes Kurapika would have for him, knows they’ll never pluck up the courage to say. 

“That’s right,” Kurapika responds, smoothing a lock of blond hair behind their ear. “So I can’t stay out late tonight, I’m sorry. I have to—”

But suddenly Leorio decides it doesn’t matter what Kurapika has to do, because he interjects with his own idea. He whispers: “Kiss me.”

And Kurapika’s dreamed it, too, would be lying if they denied it. They’ve thought about it—not in detail, but they have—but it still drags them under, a riptide in a calm sea, and for a moment they’re not breathing, only gasping for air on dry land.

“Um, well,” they say, recovering. “I-I apologize, Leorio, I’m quite tired and I’m not sure I heard you correctly… did you—did you say something?” 

Leorio grins. “Damn right I did,” he tells them. “I said,  _Kiss me._ You can do whatever the hell you wanna do after that, but first you’ve gotta kiss me.”

There’s an  _“it’s about time you did”_ hidden in there, too, that Kurapika might have rolled their eyes at if the night air wasn’t so warm, if Leorio’s smile was just a touch fainter. 

“Leorio…” Kurapika breathes. 

So they share their first kiss on a park bench, wrapped inside the city’s vague approximation of darkness, and Kurapika chooses to postpone their own departure by a day or two.


End file.
